


Dolor

by Strideshitt



Category: LazyTown
Genre: Angst, Declarations Of Love, M/M, Suffering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 19:42:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10646733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strideshitt/pseuds/Strideshitt
Summary: Even a hero can't always be there in time.





	Dolor

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Easter everyone

Glanni laid on his side, the concrete cold and unforgiving against his aching body. His breathing uneven and shallow, eyes clenched shut in pain. 

"You crossed the wrong people this time, Glæpur." A deep voice rumbled from above him. Another hard and swift kick was delivered directly to his already battered chest, and the leather clad criminal couldn't surpress a low pathetic moan of pain. 

"I told you-" Glanni's voice came out at a higher pitch than what he normally spoke with. It was hoarse, unnatural, shaking. "-I can get you money within a week." A boot came crashing down onto the man's face, grinding his already bloodied cheeks into the cold and unforgiving groud.

"You said that last week. You can't make any more promises on borrowed time."

"Please-" Glanni whined, trying to fall into the roll of someone perhaps a bit more deserving of sympathy than he was. "I can get it." 

Instantly Glanni was upright, his head swimming from the sudden movement. The man was holding him in the air by the collar of his catsuit, holding up the criminal's lanky body as if it weighed nothing. 

"You already used up all your chances." The man said with a sneer. Glanni kicked uselessly, eyes widened in as much horror as possible with his swollen and battered face. 

Almost as instantly as he had been hoisted up, Glanni was tossed down again. His body slammed on the concrete, air rushing from his lungs at the impact. Before he could get his bearrings and run, the large man pinned the criminal to the ground with a boot firmly on his chest. Glanni wheezed and winced, just trying to calm down and think of a way out of his before it was too late. 

"Seems your lucks finally run out." A light click, and Glanni's futile stuggle immediately picked up in urgency once more at the sight of the switchblade now open in his attackers hand. "The great Glanni Glæpur, found dead in an alleyway of Mayhamtown. Seems fitting for garbage like you, huh?" The man chuckled darkly. 

"Please-" Glanni said desperately, almost choking on his own words. 

"Hm?" The man hummed with a dark grin, grinding his foot down on Glanni's ribs even further. "Please what? Are you begging to die that quick?"

"No." Glanni said with a hiss. "Just let me go you ugly oaf." The criminal was almost pleased with himself for saying that with almost no wavering in his voice. The grin of the man above him faltered, and then quickly became a frown. Under differemt circumstances, Glanni was sure he'd be smiling. Right now though? He was terrified, although given the circumstances any person would be. 

"You really are a piece of shit, huh?" The larger man said with a glare. 

Glanni opened his mouth to retort, but was quickly cut off by the man stomping on his battered body. He wheezed in pain, the edges of his site searing a hot white as all the air seemed to leave him instantly, lungs crumpling like deflated balloons. He didn't have time to react before it was happening again and again, the man repeatedly slamming his foot over and over in the same spot on Glanni's torso. An audible crack was heard, and the man took a step back with a new grin in place. If Glanni hadn't been reeling in pain he would have probably glared at the sick fuck for acting like he enjoyed this. 

"It's been fun playing with you, Glæpur, but I do have a job." The man said after a few minutes of watching Glanni suffer on the dirty ground. 

"What, did your shift at McDonalds start?" Glanni's voice wavered with fear, ruining his attempt of appearing strong and brave. The man took notice of this and snorted with a smirk. 

"You sound like you're going to piss yourself, but I give you points for trying." 

"Not enough to let me go though." 

"No." The man confirmed, squatting down to be closer to Glanni. "I'm still gonna gut you like a pig." 

Glanni stared wide eyed at the knife in the man's hand, eyes clenching shut instinctively from fear as soon as the man raised his arm. This was it, wasn't it? Glanni was going to die here, in some shitty alleyway, killed by some nameless henchman of some asshole too scared to do his own dirtywork. Kind of pathetic really, and not nearly as flashy a death as Glanni would have preferred. Not that any part of him wanted to die, God no this was absolutely the worst situation imaginable for him, but at least some flair would have made this memorable for everyone. 

There was a grunt and a slam, Glanni's eyes flying open as he realized that the pain hadn't come with it. "Wh-" He breathed out, realizing that his would be murderer wasn't even on top of him anymore. 

"Íþróttaálfurinn!" The leather clad criminal shouted in surprise, realizing that the man who had been tormenting him moments ago was now pinned under a very large and very angry elf. Glanni had never been so happy to see the hero, heck he was pretty sure he was only a second away from crying and throwing himself on the man in praise. 

It was kind of satisfying to watch the man who tried to kill him be absolutely pummeled into the ground by his basically nemesis, but Glanni really just wanted to get out of here now, go lay in his warm, kind of gross, hotel bed. 

" Íþróttaálfurinn." The criminal called out once ago, watching as the hero ignored his name in favor of hitting the man under him a few more times. It was starting to get... well... horrifying. "Íþróttaálfurinn!"

"He-" A punch. "-hurt-" Glanni instinctively flinched at the sound of the asshole's nose breaking. "-you!" 

"Yeah big boy, and you made his face look like ground beef." Íþróttaálfurinn paused. "Please, just help me get back to my hotel room." Glanni said, hoping the extra added pathetic flair would make the hero take pity on him and let them leave sooner rather than later.

"...Okay." Íþróttaálfurinn stood without his usual display of unnecessarily extra athleticism, and cast a glare down to the man at his feet. There was a pause, and before Glanni could really register it the elf was at his side with unusually gentle hands and concerned expressions. "My crystal told me someone was in trouble, but I wasn't expecting-"

"Occupational hazard." Glanni interrupted with a gruff laugh. "You're an elf, too bad you don't have some kind of magical powers huh?"

"I can help plants grow."

"I meant real magical powers, like heat vision or healing. Do I look like a daffodil to you?" 

Íþróttaálfurinn shrugged at that, chosing to focus his attention on assessing Glanni's injuries rather than retorting. There was bruising across his pale skin, and blood smeared across his face. His nose was clearly broken, and his lip was split although both had stopped bleeding already. A gentle touch to the criminal's torso left him cringing and wheezing, pretty much confirming the fact at least one of his ribs had been broken from the beating. 

"So, how am I doc? Give it to me straight, will I live?" Glanni pretended to be calm and sarcastic, but a something in his voice didn't sound quite right. Íþróttaálfurinn felt terrible, knowing if he could have showed up just a moment sooner he... not the time for that. Not now. 

"You'll be fine. A little rest, some sportscandy-" 

"On second thought I wouldn't mind dying."

"-you should be back to your tricks in no time. Let's just get you somewhere safe." Íþróttaálfurinn smiled at his 'foe' softly, trying to be as warm and comforting as possible. Putting on a brave face was easy for the kids, acting strong and unaffected was simple when the problem was a scrape or something simple. But here, like this, reminded of Glanni's mortality... it was hard. Hard to think he had almost lost someone he'd held a little closer than he probably should, someone he had feelings for. No, not the time for that either. They had to leave. He had to get Glanni somewhere safe and-

"Íþróttaálfurinn! Behind you!" Glanni shrieked, and even with his inhuman speed the elf couldn't move fast enough to stop the knife. 

The world slowed, everything feeling unnatural and sluggish. Íþróttaálfurinn's thoughts felt as if they too had been slowed down. His surrondings seemed dull, muted and much too soft. Oh. He'd been stabbed. That's why Glanni was screaming, and the man he'd just beat was running off at a speed much too quick for someone who'd just had their face turned into pulp. The elf fell backwards, falling on his back onto the dirty street. The pain washed over him all at once, color and sounds all flooding back into him at once. Too quick, too much, like running face first into a brick wall. 

"Íþróttaálfurinn! Íþróttaálfurinn!" Glanni was screaming his name. Something wet fell onto the hero's face, and for a moment with his slugish thoughts he wondered when it had begun to rain before he realized it wasn't water. It was a tear. Glanni was above him on his knees, shouting frantically and sobbing. Íþróttaálfurinn couldn't think of a time he had seen the man cry, actually cry. Even with his pretend tough façade he'd never hidden his emotions, but the elf couldn't think of a time he'd actually seen the man cry. 

"You shouldn't move so much-" Íþróttaálfurinn said, voice croaking. "-your ribs..."

"To hell with them! You just got stabbed and- God you're bleeding everywhere." Glanni was frantic, panic seeping into his voice and making all his words come out too quick, movememts fast and uncertain as he looked from the fallen hero to their dingy surroundings. 

"Glanni..."

"Shut up, shut up! I'm trying to think, let me think. I'm going to figure this out, okay, and then we'll be even and this will be over and-" 

"I love you." 

"Don't." 

"But I-"

"Not now. You can write me some dramatic speech confessing yourself to me later, not now." Glanni hissed down at him, voice wavering with more emotions than Íþróttaálfurinn could name in his current condition.

"I don't think-"

"Shut up! I will not have you throw your life away over something so stupid! I'm getting you out of here, and you can go back to your flips and your-" 

"Glanni..." 

"Let me do this for you!" Glanni was sobbing, desperately trying to fix something no amount of quick wits or clever plots could fix. Íþróttaálfurinn was silent for a moment, trying to control his breaths to be less shallow and pained, but quickly realized it was almost as fruitless as Glanni's please.

"I don't think I'm going to-"

"I know." The criminal cut him off, voice small. 

"I'm sorry." Íþróttaálfurinn whispered, causing Glanni to recoil as if he'd been struck.

"Sorry- what- this is my fault. If you hadn't come to save me you'd... why?" Glanni said, voice cracking. 

"Why...?" 

"Why me? Why did you have to save me? I- fuck, this is all my fault. I should be the one with a knife in me, not you. You don't deserve this, people need you." Glanni pulled at his own hair, voice small and unsure. 

"You don't deserve this." 

"I deserve it more than you do!" Glanni was screaming again. "You weren't supposed to save me! You're not supposed to die! You're not supposed to die for nothing like this. It's not heroic to bleed out behind some shitty dumpster for someone that doesn't deserve you." 

"Glanni." 

"Shut up, shut up, shut up." 

"Let me talk." 

Glanni remained silent, staring down at the other man. He was shaking, eyes red and wet and scared. A fear that Íþróttaálfurinn hadn't seen before, a look that made his chest ache in a way more painful than any knife could ever. 

"I'm honored to die for you." 

"Don't." 

"Even if... we weren't on the same side of the law... I'm glad it was for you."

"Why?" Glanni said, voice small and almost inaudible. 

"I told you." Íþróttaálfurinn answered simply, his voice growing more and more distant with each passing second. 

"You stupid elf." Glanni hugged himself, curling up as much as his battered body would allow. "If you loved me so much you should have said something."

"Never found the right time." The elf chuckled dryly, the noise hollow and lacking any real humor. 

"As far as confessions go this ones pretty shitty." 

There was silence, the air filled with nothing but the sound of two broken men breathing. 

"Íþróttaálfurinn?"

"Hm?" The hero hummed, but the sound seemed faraway and wrong. Glanni took a deep shuddering breath.

"I love you too."


End file.
